I once had a strict “No Christmas music until after Thanksgiving” policy. And by “policy,” I meant that if you listened to Christmas music before Thanksgiving, I pretended to judge you openly. This was a way for me to hide the real truth, which was that I was actually secretly judging you. 

I am of an age where I have seen all the outward commercial signs of Christmas slowly creep from Black Friday to Halloween. As someone with a sometimes unhealthy attachment to tradition and an oversized love for Thanksgiving, I spent years revolting against premature Yuletide celebration. 

I could not have been any more insufferable about this.

That is until I learned about the Church Year. 

Like most low-church Baptists, the only church observances outside Christmas and Easter that seemed to occur on a yearly rhythm for much of my life were revival meetings, mission offerings and high-attendance Sundays. If you had introduced the ideas of the lectionary or the Church Year to me at a younger age, I would have given you a side-eye. 

Instead, learning about how the worldwide Church operated on a calendar wholly independent of the secular calendar came when I was most ready to receive it. It also occurred at the height of my anti-Christmas-before-Thanksgiving ire. 

There are variations to the Church Year across Christian traditions, but they all commemorate seasons that align with different milestones in the life of Jesus. The year begins with the Advent season, occurring during the first four Sundays before Christmas. It ends with Christ the King or “The Reign of Christ” Sunday, which then circles back to Advent. 

Christmas, it turned out, wasn’t just a Christian holiday. It had its own season, lasting for 12 days.  

And many churches don’t even begin singing Christmas carols until Christmas day. This helped me better understand the “12 Days of Christmas” song and why some old movies depicted families putting their Christmas trees up on Christmas Eve. 

Now, I didn’t just have personal reasons to oppose early Christmas celebrations; I had theological and ecclesiological ones as well.

When I was a minister on my church’s staff, I ensured we diligently followed the Church Year, especially the parts about not singing Christmas songs before Christmas. What people did in their homes was their own business, but our worshipping life together would not follow the ways of the world, so help me God. 

Like believers often do, I found a way to baptize my own personal preferences and hold them up for everyone to emulate. But as is often the case with getting older, I have softened my stance. 

I still won’t put a tree up or listen to the Christmas radio station before Thanksgiving. But I have no problem if anyone else does this. Well, I may have a little problem, but I’m working on it. 

I am loosening my grip on this unimportant-in-the-grande-scheme-of-things issue. I have observed how we can rain on other people’s parades by snidely dismissing the things they enjoy, and I am at a point in life when I don’t want to do that anymore. 

I see this often on social media. One recent meme made its way around, stating, “After 20 seasons of ‘Keeping Up with the Kardashians,’ I am proud to announce that I have never seen a single episode of ‘Keeping Up with the Kardashians.’” 

Ok. Well, I, too, have never seen a single episode of “Keeping Up with the Kardashians.” 

But is that worthy of being singled out as a point of pride? Probably not. 

And, of course, we all know the real point of the statement isn’t that one should feel pride for not watching the Kardashians, but that others should feel shame for doing so. Shameful things are being done all around us. Enjoying a little escape entertainment isn’t one of them.  

So go ahead, trim the tree and wrap the presents on Labor Day for all I care. The world is too dark for me to regulate when you turn your lights on. 

But while you’re at it, keep that tree up a few more days. It’s still Christmas, after all. 

On Saturday, we will celebrate Epiphany. For Eastern Christians, this commemorates the baptism of Jesus. For the rest of us, we remember the wise men from the East bringing gifts to Jesus. 

For all of us, the light has come. Let’s celebrate.